At the movies

Some days are just like being in the movies...

Like coming down from the bedroom and seeing the floor covered in blood, a la Reservoir Dogs. Or should I says rats, as our darling scout had chosen to bring one in and make as much mess as he could with it.

Like being at work and finding that it's Groundhog Day and that today, like yesterday and the day before that, is one long grind of getting ready for meetings, going to meetings, and washing up after meetings.

Like coming home and finding that your neighbourhood looks like the set of Enemy At The Gates as they demolish the old laundry that you've lived with for twenty years ready to build flats. I swear I saw Jude Law next door but one, wrapped in rags and wearing a fur hat and pointing something at my bedroom window.

Like finding a bit of rodent on the floor that you missed - namely the tail - and thinking of that famous Jimmy Cagney line "You Dirty Rat" that he never actually said in any of his gangster movies.

Like finding that your old and senile cat has urinated in the bread bin. No one has ever made a movie about that as far as I know. Maybe if a latter day Bunuel remade Un Chien Andalou as Un Chat de Woking ... 

Definitely a strange day. And for some reason I have a feeling that there are many more to come as this nexus point in my life continues to confront me ... my life is changing ...

I never much liked that bread bin anyway.